Immolation
by Florencia7
Summary: Risky alliances have to be formed, and ghosts of the past must be confronted on the quest for the Black Pearl and immortality. But this time, Jack might not be telling the truth... Three-shot. Post-AWE. Jack/Elizabeth.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is a story written for a backstory challenge over at LiveJournal, inspired by two prompts: _A wolf in sheep's clothing – Jack meets Hector Barbossa_ & _Selling his soul – Jack strikes a deal with Davy Jones_. The story is set two years after AWE and it will be (hopefully ^^) a three-shot (needless to say, it was supposed to be a one-shot lol). As usual, the after-the-credits scene is being conveniently ignored :)

Summary: Risky alliances have to be formed, and ghosts of the past must be confronted on the quest for the _Black Pearl_ and immortality. But this time, Jack might not be telling the truth...

Disclaimer: PotC belong to Disney.

**Immolation**

**Chapter 1**

"'Lizbeth!..."

A swish of her coat and she was gone; out of the door in three seconds. Or one.

Jack twitched his nose, and rose to his feet. "Will be right back," he muttered, glancing at the darkly amused faces around him.

"I have no time for waiting," said the man sitting across from Jack at the table, the handle of his sword glimmering in the tavern's dim light.

"Perhaps-" started Gibbs cautiously, but was cut off by another man drawing out his pistol.

A dark-haired woman next to him giggled, and jauntily adjusted her hat.

Jack squinted, and leaned over the table. "Unfortunately, when we find ourselves in the situation when waiting is unavoidable, we can't avoid finding time for it."

Gibbs reached for his rum hoping that he would manage to take his last sip before being killed by somebody from Olivier Armacanto's infamous crew.

Choosing not to interpret the look on the man's gruesome face, Jack drew back, and cleared his throat. "As I said, I will be right back."

* * *

It was dusk already, and the sea looked dark and distant under the greying sky. He noticed her march across the beach, and quickly caught up with her, muttering under his breath about bloody sand and bloody Lizzie.

_Bloody Lizzie_, he smirked to himself, making a mental note of the phrase.

"You do know this is nowhere near a good idea-" he started in what he hoped to be a very resolute tone of voice, subconsciously marveling at how their lives got tangled together in such a way that he actually had the right to grab her arm and turn her around to face him.

"Were you planning on telling me about this when we would already be aboard their ship?" she asked, glaring daggers at him, and yet he could not help noticing a few strands of her hair that escaped from under his hat which she was wearing, forming a curly lock over her cheek... He tightened his grip on her arm and pulled her closer.

"I didn't and I still don't think there was or is anything to tell," said Jack with forced patience.

"Oh!" Elizabeth widened her eyes at him. "So you weren't planning on telling me about this _at all_!" She looked so unexpectedly furious, that for a moment Jack thought she was going to hit him. But instead she just snatched herself free, and turned around with a groan.

He stared at her back in bafflement for a while, but then his face brightened.

"You're jealous," he said almost cheerfully.

"Jealous?!" Elizabeth swirled around, kicking the sand with her boot.

She was stiff from anger and cool wind, and when he pulled her into his arms she trembled, and he was once again caught off guard by how soft and sweet her lips felt against his.

"Lizzie-darling-"

"Be quiet, Jack," she whispered, and continued kissing him, every movement of her lips slower than the previous one, and he felt his heartbeat quicken respectively.

She draped her arms around his neck and his embrace around her tightened. Even after two years they still treated each kiss like a miniature treasure, and he had stopped teasing her about 'expecting an aftermath' a year ago already.

"We should go back, or they will start considering leaving without us, taking Gibbs with them as a prospective dish, should they run out of supplies," said Jack in a low voice, smirking.

Elizabeth snorted under her breath, kissed his lips, the tip of his nose, and his chin. He smiled, and she smiled back, but then her smile faltered. "Do we really need them?"

"They have a ship, luv," said Jack, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Elizabeth sighed. "There are many people who have ships," she countered dryly.

"Aye. There is a certain person that comes to mind," retorted Jack with a wry smile.

"Jack." She rested her forehead against his. "We _will _recover the _Pearl_."

He nodded absently with a half-hearted smile, and glanced away.

"In the meantime," she kissed him to draw his attention back to her. "We have the map. Why can't we find somebody else? If we even need anybody at all. This hardly seems to be the best course of action, striking deals with the man with such reputation and-" she trailed off, and added quickly in a sharper tone, "_some _former lovers. Can't we just commandeer a ship?"

Jack smiled, cupped the side of her face and brushed his thumb over her lips. "You're the only _lover_ I've ever had, Lizzie."

"Of course," Elizabeth smiled sourly. "She is an _acquaintance_ of yours, then. That's why-"

"As a matter of fact she is an... acquaintance of Hector Barbossa, and that is why this _is_ the best course of action," he added in a low voice, pressing his lips to her cheek.

"Did she betray him for you, or you for him?" asked Elizabeth cautiously, biting her lip.

Jack snorted under his breath. "There are no betrayals among acquaintances. But if you're asking if his list of grudges might include matters unrelated to the _Black Pearl_ then the answer is _aye_."

"I knew it," said Elizabeth somberly.

"Lizzie," he propped her chin with his finger, half-amused, half-pleased, although he was determined not to show the latter. "At least I'm not married," he said without thinking, with a faint lop-sided grin, and Elizabeth stared at him for a moment, and then abruptly turned around, but he caught her before she managed to move. "I'm sorry," he said dismissively burying his face in her hair. "That was... that was not what I meant."

"I think it was," answered Elizabeth distantly.

"Was not."

He turned her around, but she kept looking past him, at the sea.

"You seem regretful," he said warily, and she darted her eyes to him.

"Regretful?" Her eyes roamed around his face, and she recalled the first time they stood that close to each other – in Port Royal; and then when they were that close again, when he had come to her, tired and restless, embittered by the loss of the _Pearl_, mischievously hopeful because of the map that was still in his possession. They had sat on the beach throughout the night, and she did not remember who had made the first gesture, but at some point she had noticed they were holding each other's hands. He had not smiled, and she had not cried; they had looked at each other; and then he had doused the past with his hand on her face. She had leaned into his touch, and it was there – everything at once, tears and stars, and he had kissed her _so much_- "If there is one thing I regret..." She inched her face closer to his.

"Jack!"

Gibbs stopped in front of them, trying to catch his breath. "They- they're leaving."

"Leaving?" exclaimed Jack, wrinkling his forehead, while Elizabeth bit her lip, half-worried, half-relieved.

"Aye," nodded Gibbs with a grimace. "Mighty angry too. They said we've a quarter of an hour to come aboard, and if not-"

"What are we waiting for, then?" Jack tugged on Elizabeth's hand, and pulled her with him. She pursed her lips, and dug her nails into his palm out of pure annoyance.

He hissed and glanced at her over his shoulder, but she would not meet his gaze.

Gibbs looked between them and then looked away, biting back a smile. "Do we really need them?" he asked after a pause.

"I just asked the very same question!" cut in Elizabeth triumphantly, quickening her steps.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Do you both consider, at least remotely, the possibility of me actually having a plan?" he asked with a hint of irritation in his voice.

"No," retorted Elizabeth immediately, and Gibbs started to cough, desperate not to chuckle.

Jack squinted at them both. "Uplifting. Very," he muttered with a frown.

"I only think that it wouldn't hurt if we could find a more... amiable company," observed Gibbs cautiously.

"Oh, the company is extremely amiable," said Elizabeth sardonically, before Jack had a chance to answer.

To Gibbs' amusement, Jack drew Elizabeth closer and said matter-of-factly: "My Lizzie is jealous, Mr. Gibbs. Do not mind her comments," he kissed her cheek and smiled.

Elizabeth shifted her eyes to him, huffing in annoyance. "I'm not 'your Lizzie'!"

Jack draped his arm around her waist, and pressed his lips to her ear, Gibbs' presence the only thing that kept Elizabeth from actually doing him some bodily damage after the remark that followed: "I _vividly_ recall you _panting_ that you are, luv."

* * *

"It's just another copy of the map you already have." The woman's slender finger followed the inscription on the map. "Why bother taking them along?"

Olivier Armacanto leaned back in his chair and smiled. "The question is, why do they want to come along if they have a map," he said in a low voice, slowly folding the yellowed piece of parchment.

"Jack lost his ship. Again," the woman slid off the desk, and walked across the cabin toward the table.

"And my ship is his only hope. I'm flattered." The captain stood up, and shoved the map into one of the drawers.

"Do you think he's not telling the truth?" Verde reached out and outlined the rim of the bowl with her forefinger.

"Truth." Armacanto barked a laugh. "A fine legend on its own. I hope to meet its inventor in the afterlife."

Verde took one of the apples from the bowl and swiftly turned around. "No afterlife, if there really is a Fountain of Youth," she said with a smile, watching him cross the cabin with a pensive expression on his face.

"What a bright assumption indeed," he said slowly, his eyes fixed on the window.

Verde squinted, and took a few brisk steps toward him. "A wrong assumption?"

Armacanto smiled enigmatically. "I do wonder what makes people think that Fountain of Youth _gives _anything," he paused, and turned to look at her. "What if... it actually takes everything away?"


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I'm desperate to keep this story a three-shot, that's why this chapter is so long lol

Disclaimer: I don't own Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 2**

"Dreadful weather ahead of us," said Gibbs conversationally, rubbing his hands together.

Verde turned away from the rail and gave him a slightly questioning look.

"That's what everyone says," added Gibbs uncertainly, concluding at last, that his friendly attitude toward Armacanto's crew was not working at all. So far he had encountered three pairs of glaring eyes, one door shut closed, a handful of curses and now, most likely, he managed to annoy the pretty first mate of Olivier Armacanto. And all of that because he was slightly too tired to continue listening to Jack and Elizabeth shouting at each other. Well, Elizabeth shouting and Jack trying to interrupt her.

"Sunshine can be much more dreadful," Verde's voice broke through Gibbs' thoughts. "While a good storm never fails a good sailor," she leaned against the rail with a small smile.

"Aye," whispered Gibbs, watching her carefully. "So we're leaving at dawn?" he asked, subconsciously wondering what could have happened to the girl's mother. She must look like her, for there was certainly no great similarities between her and her father...

But then a glimpse of a mischievous grin in Verde's eyes made Gibbs to consider reconsidering the assumption he had just made.

"We're setting sail tonight. We're just waiting for the right constellation of stars to signal our departure," she said, glancing upwards.

Gibbs followed her gaze and looked at the starless sky in confusion.

One could only hope Jack really knew what he was doing.

* * *

"Acquaintance!" exclaimed Elizabeth with a huff, slumping onto the bed and then jumping up with a groan.

Jack winced. "Technically-"

"You said, she was Barbossa's acquaintance," said Elizabeth through clenched teeth, crossing her arms over her chest.

Jack pouted cautiously, but seeing the unwavering sparkle of anger in Elizabeth's eyes he just twitched his nose and smiled. "They don't know each other too well, so technically-"

"She is his daughter!" shouted Elizabeth.

"I don't think it makes such a great difference," observed Jack in a low voice.

Elizabeth was going to retort, but then it crossed her mind that it was, in fact, ridiculous of her to be upset over such thing. Obviously, the only reason for her to be upset was that she had quite foolishly hoped the girl had a greater romantic interest in Barbossa than in-

But of course she did not need Jack to know that.

She pursed her lips and huffed in annoyance for the hundredth time.

Carefully, Jack stepped toward her, took his hat off her head, and placed it on one of the cabinets. "Well, if you insist on using such precise nomenclature, luv-"

"Jack!" Elizabeth interrupted him with a sigh of exasperation. "I can't speak to anyone here – or anywhere else for that matter! - without being presented with a collection of facts that I wasn't aware of, and of which I should've been aware of, of which you should've told me! Do you have any idea how it makes me feel? I'm-"

Jack cupped her face in his hands and she almost tripped over her own feet when he pulled her toward him. "How does it make you feel?" he asked in a serious, low voice, pronouncing every syllable very slowly.

Elizabeth stared at him in stupefaction for a moment, before she gathered enough self-control to whisper sharply. "It isn't funny and I'm not joking."

"I'm just asking the very question you asked me to ask you, luv," said Jack matter-of-factly.

"Jack."

"Ah," he smiled at the hint of reconciliation in her voice, and leaned down to kiss her. "Truce?"

"I see no point in arguing if you're not going to tell the truth," answered Elizabeth grumpily, closing her eyes.

"So many truths to choose from, Lizzie," he smiled and kissed her.

"No, Jack. There is only one truth. You just don't want to choose which one is it."

"Me?" he asked immediately and they were silent for a moment, before Elizabeth stepped back.

"I was talking about our current situation. On this ship. With these people," she said dryly.

Jack tilted his head to the side. "Of course," he agreed, squinting.

Elizabeth sat down on the edge of the bed, and quietly, trying to keep her voice sharp said: "One would think you were actually serious when you proposed to me on the way to Isla Cruces."

She inhaled, and waited for a reply but there was none. She could hear shouted commands coming from above, and the sound of the waves leaping against the hull.

"You declined," he whispered into her ear, sitting on the bed behind her.

Elizabeth turned her head and found him smiling at her, but she had seen enough of his smiles to know which of them were fake.

"You're jealous." She dug her nails into the bed cover in order not to start caressing his face. That strange desire to protect him – almost as strong as the passion he ignited in her – sometimes confused her, and she also vaguely suspected that it could bring more harm than good.

"Jealous?" Jack raised his eyebrows and touched her face with the backs of his fingers.

"Of the past. And of the future," she said evenly.

"Only the present is real enough to worry about it," he said with a faint smile that did not reach his eyes, gathering her into his arms.

"I think you're jealous," she said with a deliberate wish to annoy him, knowing very well that even if he was jealous, he would never openly say it. Like he had never said that he loved her...

"Words, Lizzie, are replaceable," he brushed his lips across hers twice before kissing her ardently on the mouth, and slowly pushing her down onto the bed.

"Some words, yes. But not all of them," she said quietly, thinking that perhaps if she said that she loved him, he would say it back... But there was something uniquely enthralling about hearing it first, and that was why she had not said it herself yet either.

"I've never had much trust in words. They usually mean what's hidden behind and underneath them, never _in_."

She returned the kiss, pulling him closer by the lapels of his coat. "Jack."

"Lizzie." He rolled over, propped himself on his elbow and looked at her.

She looked exactly like she had looked two years ago when he had come to her following his compass' irritatedly consistent directions. Only now she was not sad, at least he did not think she was. There was a constant glimmer in her eyes, light in her face that made his little lie about the Fountain of Youth somewhat justifiable...

He tried to avoid dwelling on the subject, because pondering it always led him to the dejectedly acknowledged conclusion that she would not have agreed to go with him if there would have been no immortality at stake – if there would not have been an endless parade of _one-days _looming on the horizon.

She did not need to know that drawing fake maps was one of the late Sao Feng's favorite pastimes, and that the map they had, could not really lead them anywhere. He liked to think that once they would recover the _Black Pearl_ he could actually find a way to obtain the real map (if the real map existed...) which could lead them to the Fountain of Youth (if the Fountain of Youth existed...).

Elizabeth rolled onto her side as well, and placed her folded hands under her head. Jack slid his arm underneath her, and made her rest her head on his shoulder instead.

"In the last two years I meant every word I said," she pursed her lips, glancing up at him.

He smiled, sifting her hair through his outstretched fingers. "It's a dangerous habit, luv."

"Every word I said – to you," she amended softly, marvelling at the feeling of warmth in her chest spreading through her body, reaching the tips of her fingers, her toes... It was so easy to forget the entire world when he was so close; it was so easy to mistake him for the entire world.

"Really?" he asked, smirking. "So when you said that I'm a sordid rapscallion you _really _meant it?"

Elizabeth snorted, burying her face into his dreadlocks.

"And when you called me a rascal and a wretch _twice _and slapped me-"

"Jack!" she draped her leg across his and cupped the side of his face. "These don't count."

Jack widened his eyes at her. "Oh I assure you they do, luv." He tilted his head, pointing to a long scratch on his neck. "Because they are usually followed by these."

"Jack! It happened only once. And I didn't mean to scratch you... that hard."

"That's a relief to know," said Jack amusedly, taking her hand in his, and brushing his thumb across his ring with a green stone glittering on her finger.

She laughed and tugged on one of his dreadlocks, the one into which he had weaved strands of her hair.

He hugged her close and the sudden, absolute closeness made them both silent for a while.

It was the silence that was most unpredictable, as they had noticed all those months ago, in Jack's old room in Shipwreck Cove. They had run up the stairs in frantic excitement, kissing and snickering, tugging off each other's clothes – and not saying a single word until they were snuggled together on the bed, and even then the only words that had passed between them were their names, and she had shivered and shattered at every _Lizzie_, his sea-roughened hands so surprisingly gentle on her skin, his lips on hers-

"Lizzie?"

Elizabeth coughed, trying to brush the memories off her mind. "How did you meet her?" she asked coolly, pursing her lips, and trying to sound demanding.

Jack rolled his eyes at the change of mood and tilted his head backwards. Elizabeth lifted her head, stealing a glance at his throat and smiling involuntarily at the thought how familiar every inch of his skin had become. It was frighteningly reassuring to know _everything _about someone... and although she certainly did not know everything about him, she liked to think that she knew more than everybody else.

"Whom?"

"Jack!"

He rolled onto his side to face her, and kissed her, a long, lingering kiss to which it was impossible not to surrender.

"In Tortuga," he said, breaking the kiss, and Elizabeth began to wonder if the purpose of the kiss was to make whatever he intended to say sound less horrible.

It would have been interesting, if it was not so unbelievably annoying to know, and embarrassing to admit that on her list of most horrible occurrences the image of him with another woman placed on the very top, leaving all natural disasters, deaths, wars, and diseases far behind.

"Of course," she snorted. "Go on."

He looked at her for a moment, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards in an amused smile. "She was looking for somebody to shoot ol' Hector."

Elizabeth blinked. "She was looking for somebody to kill her father?" she asked, perplexed.

"I happened to be there, and as I was already set on committing the very deed anyway, I thought it wouldn't hurt to get paid for it."

"What a happy coincidence," said Elizabeth cautiously, still expecting to hear something displeasing. "So you met her after the mutiny."

Jack looked away, and Elizabeth placed her hand on his cheek. There were not many subjects that could make him look away, but she believed she knew those few that could. "We'll recover the _Pearl_," she repeated the words once again, and Jack stifled a half-hearted chuckle.

"I'm not a babe, 'Lizbeth." Elizabeth bit her lip and inhaled sharply. "You don't have to say it every time you see a frown on my face."

"That's for me to decide," she countered haughtily, and then smiled, pressing her lips to his.

He kissed her, watching her face through half-lidded eyes, memorizing the moment. It was a strange habit, and he could not quite grasp the meaning of it. Somehow he just felt that if he watched her, he could be assured that it was really happening.

"Why did she want him dead?" asked Elizabeth, running her fingertips along Jack's jawline, pretending not to see the dark mist hovering over his eyes. It was curiously exhilarating to watch him respond to her touch, although she avoided dwelling on the question whether it was because she was _Lizzie_, or because she was a woman.

"He sold something that wasn't his to sell," said Jack, almost unconsciously fumbling with the buttons of her shirt.

"Her ship?" Elizabeth risked the most plausible guess.

Jack shook his head with a faint smile, frowning slightly at the third button that refused to cooperate.

Elizabeth pulled off the button and threw it on the floor, leaving Jack with his hand suspended in the air. "Something valuable that belonged to her?"

Jack smiled. "Her soul."

Elizabeth shook her head in bafflement. "Her soul?"

"I met Barbossa on the _Flying Dutchman_. He was striking a bargain of his own. Only it wasn't his own soul he decided to offer."

"How is it possible to sell somebody else's soul?" Elizabeth asked incredulously, and Jack cleared his throat.

"Well, it is, apparently," he said evasively, _three and a half _flashing across his mind. He slowly brushed a lock of Elizabeth's hair off her face. She quickly turned her head, kissed his hand, and smiled.

Did truth really matter? If he told her the truth, if he told her that he did not know if the Fountain of Youth existed, if he told her that a month before he had come to her to Shipwreck Cove he learnt that the map he had was fake, she would not go with him, and they would not be here now - together.

"But what did he want in return? What did he want from Davy Jones?" asked Elizabeth, looking at Jack expectantly.

So many places he had been to, so many dark sunsets, and yet it was not until the Locker's sweltering sun burnt his skin that it had occurred to him that there were horizons that could not be reached, that there were chances that could not be taken, that not all dreams were meant to be fulfilled.

Elizabeth cupped Jack's face in her hands and brushed her thumbs across his lips. "Jack?" she asked quietly and he kissed her hand like she had a moment before. They smiled.

"I don't know," he said in answer to her question, shaking off the thoughts about the Locker that were now rare and almost pleasant – because they were no longer a nightmare, but rather a prelude to what came later, and what was made out of wild moonlight and quiet mornings when he marveled at the similarity between her hair and sun rays, watching her in her sleep."I got my thirteen years and the _Black Pearl_, and I left the _Dutchman_. He stayed, but on the next day we spotted him adrift on the water, took him aboard, and a few weeks later after a series of misfortunes and three storms he became the first mate."

"You never asked him what he was doing on the _Flying Dutchman_?" Elizabeth snuggled closer to Jack, running her fingertips across his face.

He had noticed some months ago she was doing it whenever she was contemplating asking him about something she suspected he might not like to be asked about. He also knew that it was pointless, trying to force her to tell him what was bothering her, so he just answered her question instead, and for the first time he also told her everything about that night on the _Flying Dutchman_, about the slick, seaweed-covered boards, damp wind and the way his clothes clung to his skin, heavy raindrops falling onto his face in the greenish darkness. It surprised him how many details he remembered, how easy it was to recall the very feeling, the sense of dread that was so new for him back then, before he had learnt to turn it into an advantage, into the thrill of the unknown that could be outsmarted.

He told her about those two years after retrieving the _Pearl_, recounted battles and conversations, the repairs that had had to be made to the ship. It was the first time he was talking about all of that out loud, and half through the story he caught himself telling Elizabeth everything the way it had _really_ happened, the strange realization causing him to actually trail off, but when she playfully tugged on his dreadlocks he continued.

Her eagerness for the stories from his past always disarmed him. He thought that everything that had happened to her – everything that had made her the Pirate King, everything that had changed her, should cure her from her childhood fantasies, teach her that the pirate's life was not a literary endeavor. But somehow, after the first weeks of wariness, she had seemed to return rather than distance herself from that imaginary reality, and he liked to think, cautiously and infrequently, that it had something to do with him.

"No wonder she wanted him killed," concluded Elizabeth grimly, sliding her hand under Jack's shirt and covering the bullet holes with her palm.

Her hand was warm on his skin and he smiled, leaning forward and pressing his lips to hers. Elizabeth closed her eyes with a sigh, but then a knock on the door made her to open them again.

Reluctantly, they both pushed themselves to the sitting position.

"Come in," bellowed Jack, wrinkling his forehead.

"It's only me," Gibbs entered the cabin, and then smiled apologetically at the frown on Jack's face. "I thought you might want to know we are to set sail... tonight."

"Tonight?" Jack and Elizabeth said in unison, struggling to their feet.

"Aye." Gibbs smiled. "I was surprised too. I thought we'd do some more talking, planning and leave at dawn."

"I'll better see what they're up to," said Jack, grasping Elizabeth's elbow and kissing her briefly on the lips on his way to the door.

Elizabeth closed the door behind him, grabbed Jack's hat from the cabinet, slowly walked back to the bed, and sat down on the edge of it.

"Maybe it won't be as bad as it seems," observed Gibbs good-humoredly. "It never is."

Elizabeth smiled at him faintly, chewing on her bottom lip.

Gibbs smiled pensively, recalling the image of her staring into the sea with the same thoughtfulness in her gaze, when she was no more than twelve years old. Only then there was a hint of excitement in her eyes, and right now he could also see a glimpse of distress.

"If the weather will be on our side, we might catch up with the _Pearl _in a few days," he said encouragingly.

Elizabeth sighed. "I hope so. But I don't think Barbossa will give up the _Pearl _without a fight, and I don't know if Jack is right assuming that this Olivier Armacanto will help us for a faint promise of the Fountain of Youth."

She was looking at her boots and fiddling with Jack's hat in her hands, and although Gibbs could see how all of that might worry her, there still seemed to be something more on her mind.

"Lives of all the seamen are made out of faint promises of treasure, good weather, luck," Gibbs smiled reassuringly. "And immortality is a very tempting promise, even for such an ill-famed pirate as Armacanto."

Elizabeth nodded mutely, and put Jack's hat on her head. It still surprised her a bit how easily Jack had accepted the fact that she had won his hat in a card game. But she hoped he would never want it back, because she grew quite attached to it.

Gibbs looked at her with a small smile, trying to think of something to say that could cheer her up. "Elizabeth..."

She looked up and noticed something in Gibbs' eyes that reminded her of her father and of the dim, snug light of the lamps in the library in their old house in London. And perhaps it was that memory, or maybe the general exhaustion that made her confide in Gibbs so suddenly.

"I'm with child," she said quietly, holding his gaze for a moment before looking down on her hands. It was a relief to say it out loud, but at the same time saying it out loud made it frighteningly more real.

Gibbs froze, and for a while just stared at her, not knowing whether he had heard her correctly.

"That's... wonderful news," he said after a moment of silence and Elizabeth glanced up at him, smiling uncertainly. Gibbs ran his hand across his forehead and sat next to her. "Why don't you tell Jack?" he asked gently, smiling back at her.

Elizabeth shrugged. "I don't know," her voice was quivering, and Gibbs was afraid she might start crying, but she smiled instead. "I don't know what he will say. I know since last week, but I just can't... I just keep wondering what he will say."

"If I may... I think you should tell him right away," said Gibbs with a reassuring smile.

Elizabeth nodded. "I'll wait for the opportune moment," she muttered with a small pout, and they both chuckled.

* * *

"You're not avoiding me, are you?" Verde emerged from behind one of the masts, smiling coyly.

Jack turned on his heels and smiled. "Not at all. I just have to speak to your captain."

"My captain," she repeated with a snort. "Is it an insult, a compliment, a sarcasm, or a question?"

"A remark."

Verde grinned. "Every time I'm coming close to remembering why I put you on my list of people to kill you make a miraculous reappearance that makes me forget all about it."

Jack widened his eyes at her. "I sincerely hoped you took me off that list after our last round of... negotiations."

She took a few steps toward him. "I barely remember it. It must have been fifty years ago."

"Five." Jack narrowed his eyes in a smile, raising his hand, and fluttering five fingers at her.

She looked directly at his hand and after a brief scrutiny laughed. "I think I can risk a guess on whose finger is that green ring of yours now." Jack narrowed his eyes at her. "And she has your hat too."

"Lizzie won my hat in a card game," said Jack with a twitch of his nose.

"Did she now," Verde chuckled. "How funny is that. I can't recall a single instance when you lost in a card game."

"Funny indeed. As I can't recall a single instance of you sailing a ship without captaining it," retorted Jack with a smile, watching her closely. "And while we're at it," he continued after a brief pause during which Verde only smiled enigmatically, "what's happened to your ship, darlin'?"

"My ship's safe and sound, thank you for your concern. Should I perhaps express mine?" she tilted her head to the side.

"It's only a matter of distance now," said Jack in a voice suddenly devoid of amusement.

"Such a waste, isn't it? After all those years you finally managed to shoot him, and yet he's back as if nothing happened. Makes killing look so dreadfully futile," she looked away, squinting into the distance.

"You don't need to be after him anymore. With Davy Jones gone, you don't have to worry about that agreement. I'm more than certain the new Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ will not consider it valid," said Jack, uttering the last words in a slightly strained voice.

Verde's eyes darted to him. "Maybe. But my soul was promised to the _Dutchman_, not to her Captain," she said grimly, but then smiled. "Not to mention that I'd prefer to have it nullified rather than depend on benevolence of a man scorned."

"I told you that with-" started Jack, but trailed off guessing from the hint of playfulness in her voice that she was not talking about Davy Jones. "Ah."

"I've been to Shipwreck Cove," Verde inched her face closer to his. "And I have to warn you that you make major news," she widened her eyes meaningfully. "There are _terrible_ tales floating around," she lowered her voice to a conspirational whisper. "You were seen holding hands with her in broad daylight, and there are people claiming that the two of you spent a night on a beach singing, laughing, and writing – with your _feet_ - words on the sand." Verde's wiped the deadly serious expression off her face and laughed, taking a step back.

Jack smiled to himself at the memory, and shifted his eyes to the sea. "I need to speak to Armacanto," he said looking back at Verde. "Unless you could tell me why we're setting sail tonight?"

"I could." Verde smiled. "If I were the captain, but as you rightly pointed out, I'm not captaining this ship," she adjusted her hat, and with a smile lingering on her face walked away. _Yet_.

* * *

"Stars will guide our way," said Olivier Armacanto in an exaggeratedly solemn tone of voice, and then chuckled darkly, indicating a chair. "Sit down, Captain Sparrow."

"Stars," muttered Jack, regarding the chair suspiciously before sitting down.

"Per aspera ad astra, eh?" Armacanto placed a bottle of rum in front of Jack, and then the other one in front of himself. "Only it's usually the other way around," he muttered under his breath, taking a seat at his desk.

"Very true." Jack smiled thoughtfully.

"Speaking of truths." Armacanto opened his desk's drawer, pulled a parchment out of it, and threw it on the table. "What is yours, Captain?"

Jack glanced warily at the rolled up parchment, and then calmly moved his gaze back to Armacanto's face. "I'm afraid-"

"The Fountain of Youth," Armacanto interrupted him in a suspiciously even tone of voice, that contrasted with his usually rough manner of speaking. Even during their negotiations in the tavern he had expressed less than friendly attitude toward the entire idea of their joined endeavour, and now he appeared almost sincerely concerned... for some reason. "That's a copy of your map, or... the original version of the copy you have," he waved his hand dismissively. "Either way," he paused, his eyes piercing into Jack's for a moment, before he uncorked his bottle, taking a long swig out of it. "It's only a drawing, isn't it?"

Jack inhaled sharply, but managed an enigmatic smile. "That's what people think," he narrowed his eyes. "About all legends. And yet-"

"If you only pretend you don't know what I mean, it'd be better for you to stop pretending. Now." Armacanto's voice turned from friendly to threatening in an instant, and Jack found himself twitching his nose more in annoyance than worry.

"If you know it's only a drawing, why did you agree to sail there?" he asked irritatedly, and Armacanto laughed dryly.

"I didn't agree to sail to the picture on your map. Or mine, for that matter," he pushed the parchment causing it to roll across the desk. "I agreed to sail to the Fountain of Youth."

Jack slowly raised his eyebrows.

Armacanto slid his hand under his coat, and carefully took a piece of thick, sparkling paper out of his coat's inner pocket. "And this is the map that leads to it," he said with a smile, placing a small, square map in front of Jack.

Jack's eyes roamed around the map that seemed to be covered with gold and silver dust, the colors of water and land visible underneath, islands of blue and green glowing faintly.

"So as you see, there is no need to alter our destination." Armacanto sat back in his chair, his eyes fixed on his map. "But it seems to me now, that since it turned out it is me, not you, who has the map, I seem to be at loss as to the reason why should I keep the three of you aboard? Or even alive," he added after a pause, smiling wryly.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: **_Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews!_ :)**

Disclaimer: PotC belong to Disney.

**Chapter 3**

"It's a fair deal, Lizzie," said Jack convincingly, slightly surprised by the morose expression that appeared on Elizabeth's face.

"I thought we were going to find the _Black Pearl _first," said Elizabeth chewing on her bottom lip. "We're so close-"

"I know." Jack shook his head with a grimace. "But because of certain-"

"Unforeseeable circumstances," cut in Elizabeth, shooting him a pointed look. Then she sighed, and put her head in her hands.

Cautiously, without taking his eyes off them, Gibbs began to move toward the door.

"So we're going to spend the next half a year or more sailing across freezing waters to some frozen island that we don't even know if it exists," said Elizabeth quietly, staring at the floor, and Jack tried to trace irritation in her voice, but surprisingly there was none. She simply seemed saddened by the news.

"I can lend you my coat, luv," said Jack, smirking, but the expression on Elizabeth's face did not brighten. "It wasn't me who placed the Fountain of Youth there," he added with a small pout, not really knowing what to think of Elizabeth's suddenly extremely practical attitude.

On the one hand, his heart skipped more than one beat at the idea that she might not care about immortality all that much, that perhaps the Fountain of Youth was not, after all, what had prompted her to go with him... Then again, she could be simply tired, therefore capricious - the direct relation he had discovered some time ago when after one of the most severe storms they had endured, she had refused to sleep in his bed unless the pillows would have been replaced with more fluffy ones, a request difficult to fulfill in the middle of the sea.

Jack cleared his throat and bent on one knee beside the bed. Surely, she was not afraid of another unpredictable journey. It was not like her to be afraid, not at all, and yet he thought he saw a glimpse of apprehension in her eyes when she looked at him.

"Lizzie-luv, our chances of retrieving the_ Black Pearl after _finding the Fountain are much-"

"One would think you care more about the immortality than about the _Pearl_," she cut in, and even as she was saying it she knew it was not right, accusing him of such a thing. He had given up immortality before, and for something certainly much less dear to him than his ship...

Jack stared at her in slight confusion, on the verge of asking her if for her the _Pearl_ was more important than immortality, for her words, oddly, seemed to indicate it. "I care about opportune moments, and now is the opportune moment to find the Fountain, not the _Pearl_."

He abstractedly wondered what she would say if he told her that he wanted to find the Fountain for her, and for her alone; that he had felt a strange relief wash over him when he had wrapped Will's fingers around the dagger and the heart of Davy Jones was pierced by somebody else's hand, not his.

"Well, if that's how it is, I have to..." Elizabeth quickly ran the tip of her tongue along her dry lips, "I have to leave. I'm not going."

Jack blinked.

"I'll see how..." Gibbs rubbed his forehead, "is everything going," he smiled strenuously, and left the cabin in a hurry, quickly closing the door behind him.

Jack hardly noticed the exit. "What do you mean?" he asked with a frown, looking at her sitting on the very edge of the bed, dangling her legs, crossing and uncrossing her feet like an unfairly scolded child. "'Lizbeth?"

She felt her heart clench at the way he had said her name. She would miss that. She would miss his voice, strange as it was, of all the things she suddenly thought she would miss his voice most. "I mean that I can't sail to the Fountain of Youth. I can't risk such a long and unpredictable journey."

Her voice was surprisingly stubborn, and he looked at her, trying to figure out what was going on. The Pirate King could not possibly be afraid of a bit of cold, snow and a few icebergs, could she? For a split second he wanted to tease her about it, but she looked so pale and so sincerely troubled that he instantly abandoned the idea.

"Are you going to tell me why?" It was always a risky endeavor, asking her questions. But there was something in the way her shoulders were hunched, in the way she was biting her lip, that made her look vulnerable, and it was impossible not to ask her why.

He glanced at his hat that she was wearing. She could not be upset with him if she was wearing his hat, his ring... He thought about draping his coat around her shoulders, but the gesture would have seemed so out of place...

"I just can't go. That's all," she said blankly, ridiculously stalling for time, even though she knew it made absolutely no sense postponing what she had to say for another couple of sentences.

But she just did not know how to say it. She was torn between expecting the worst and the best, dozens of possible scenarios running through her head. In one moment she was certain he would find the situation amusing, in the other she thought he would be upset; then she was quite sure he would be happy, and a second later she just _knew_ he would tell her to go away. In her imagination, she worked out most bizarre versions of his reaction, suspecting that none of them was truly probable, and yet she just could not help imagining his exact words, the exact way in which he would smile? frown? laugh? grimace? And the more she tried to predict his reaction, the more nervous she was becoming.

"This is most certainly not all." There was such a familiarly soothing hint of humor in his voice, that after a moment of hesitation she looked up, and smiled faintly at the sight of his face so close to her; his face that she knew by heart, every line, every wrinkle unforgettable, immortal under her touch.

She wondered if she should tell him that she always thought him beautiful... Would she have a chance to tell him? He felt a wave of cold dread at the thought that he might just coolly ask her to disappear from his life. It would be so unlike him, but for the past several days she just could not think straight anymore. Happiness, fear, hope, sense of guilt toward Will - all her feelings entwined together, so impossibly, mercilessly complicated.

"You're right," she whispered exasperatedly and closed her eyes for a moment before swiftly rising to her feet, a glint of defiance flashing in her eyes. "I need to tell you something."

Jack stood up and turned to her, and she felt a twinge of painful hope at the suddenly solemn expression on his face.

Jack inhaled, very slowly. She wanted to leave because she was tired of him. She was tired of ship-less treasure hunting. She missed... She was annoyed. Bored. She did not want to wake up with his face in her hair anymore. All these thoughts were cold and strange and ridiculous in the context of their conversation just an hour ago. He knew they were, and yet...

"Shall we sit down?" He had intended to sound merely a bit nonchalant, but the question came out almost ironic.

Elizabeth gritted her teeth. "I've been trying to tell you for several days, but I just- there was just- I mean there wasn't-"

His hands were hanging limply on his sides, and she bizarrely recalled those few minutes they had spent on the _Pearl _togetherbefore the Kraken had taken it down... and for a moment, overwhelmed by the memory she could not even understand why they were now speaking to each other, why he had ever come back for her to Shipwreck Cove, why he had wanted her to accompany him on his journey to the Fountain of Youth, and how could he even stand her touch?...

"I see." He looked at her evenly, and she inhaled deeply, slowly opening her mouth to speak.

All the phrases seemed wrong or awkward or both, and she did not feel lighthearted enough to attempt a humorous announcement.

"I'll be having our baby," she said quietly, her throat tightening, and she could almost feel her face drain, very slowly, of all color.

* * *

The deck was strangely empty, and Gibbs thought it a bad sign, especially right before leaving port. People who were absent were always up to no good, and he also wondered if there was more to Jack's deal with Olivier Armacanto's that he had let on when telling him and Elizabeth about it.

Gibbs shook his head with a small smile. There was an epic tale about to begin. Somehow, he had never pictured Jack as a father... He did not doubt Jack would make... an exceptional father, he had just never thought about it, they had never talked about it, the subject was virtually non-existent, until now.

Walking across the deck, Gibbs heard a murmur of whispers and began slowly make his way toward it. The only thing worse than the absence of people were people speaking in low voices.

He turned around the corner and stopped dead in his tracks.

Perhaps having a gun pressed to one's forehead could compete for the leading position among bad things, after all...

* * *

Jack stared at her in absolute silence, and for a brief moment Elizabeth thought that he had stopped breathing altogether. In all her predictions she had missed the possibility of silence, of no reaction at all, and she stood staring back at him, feeling anxiety build up in her chest, draping over her heart a heavy veil of disappointment.

She looked extremely sad and distressed - that was Jack's first, immediate impression that had nearly preceded her words, and as soon as she had said them, he felt as if he had known all along.

Carefully, gently, making sure the abstract exhilaration that fluttered in his mind would not show through the tone of his voice, he said:

"It's not the end of the world, Lizzie."

She exhaled rapidly, trying to gather enough strength to shake off the thin layer of dismay, almost hearing a handful of her pale, twinkling dreams shattering to the ground like dead stars.

"No it's not," she said hoarsely, with a nervous sneer and sudden energy, glaring at him with glassy eyes.

He did not know what to say to console her, for she looked like she definitely needed consolation. A strange urge to say something that could make her feel better muffled all his other thoughts. He tried not to think about possibilities, about sunlight, tiny hands, and laughter, about bonds stronger than any vows. She was so clearly unhappy... and there was nothing he could say to make her feel what she did not feel.

"What are you going to do?" he asked in a low, slightly strained voice, not knowing what to ask to brush that look of misery off her face. Perhaps letting her know, assuring her that she had everything under control would make her feel better? He did not want her to feel trapped. Maybe if she did not feel trapped, she would not leave, and maybe if she would not leave, he could convince her to stay and keep the baby. A baby. The baby. The word was so odd and at the same so... celestial that he could hardly concentrate on trying to sound calm. His baby, her baby, their baby. All the ships and dead people were suddenly erased from his mind, nothing seemed to matter, nothing could matter, nothing had enough power to compete with the idea of Their Baby. And it was not merely an idea, it was _real_.

If only, in exchange for their safety, he would not have promised the _Black Pearl _to Armacanto... Because any other ship did not deserve having Their Baby learning to walk on its deck.

Elizabeth's hands curled up into fists and she wanted to scream – scream so loud that everything around her would break and fall apart. What was _she _going to do!?

"Oh don't trouble yourself over that," she whispered through her clenched teeth, shaking, her voice pulling Jack out of his reverie. "I'm sorry I even bothered telling you about it!" Her voice cracked when she attempted to shout, and his heartbeat increased from fast to frantic. "How stupid of me," she sneered bitterly, tears welling up in her eyes, and rolling down her cheeks before she managed to angrily wipe them off her face with her hands.

"Lizzie-" he took a step forward, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He tried to make sense of her words, but a part of his mind was still preoccupied with worrying that learning to walk on deck was not as safe as it seemed. What with the constant swaying of the ship, and there were also splinters to consider!...

"Don't!" Elizabeth stepped back, extending her hand to stop him from walking toward her, the expression on her face changing from vulnerable to determined. "And if you think about asking me to give it away, don't even try. This is my baby, my baby!" she repeated the word, and the more times she repeated it, the less frightening it seemed. It was actually strangely exhilarating, that idea of responsibility, and it gave her so much strength that in that moment, for several seconds, she felt she could effortlessly raise a dozen of children on her own. "I'm going to have this baby whether you like it- or not- so don't even try-" she was sobbing now, her voice was falling and raising with every syllable, and Jack stared at her in bewilderment, having never seen her in such a state before.

"Elizabeth!" he shouted incredulously, finally beginning to comprehend what it was that she seemed to be thinking.

She fell silent and just glared at him, single tears flowing down her face, and the sight made his heart clench.

He leaped forward and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Do you think I could- Is that what you think? Is that what you think of me?"

Instinctively, she made an attempt to snatch herself free, but when he tightened his grip sliding his hands to her arms she just looked at him, blinking back the tears.

"And what should I think?" she asked angrily, forgetting all about her resolve to stay calm and reasonable. It would not make sense to be reasonable. She would tell him the truth, and let him stomp on it and throw it away. At least she would really know everything about him then. "I'm telling you about something so wonderful, and you're telling me that it's not the end of the world!"

"And what could I possibly say hearing something so wonderful uttered in the most devastated tone you've ever used!?" he retorted, and trailed off at the sudden realization of what he had actually said – and what she had said.

_Wonderful._

Elizabeth froze. "What did you say?" she asked after a pause, so quietly that the words were almost soundless.

He let his eyes roam around her face for a moment, before he slid his hands up to her shoulders and then to her neck, cupping her face in his palms and inching his face to hers. "I said..."

"So why?..." asked Elizabeth quickly, quietly, having an impression that the world around them suddenly grew very quiet.

"I thought you weren't happy about it," said Jack gloomily.

Elizabeth widened her eyes at him. "Why? I was just... I didn't know what you would say. I just... didn't... I just don't know whom I am to you. You've never even said..." she stopped in mid-sentence and looked away.

"I thought you didn't want to hear it," said Jack, propping her chin with his hand, their lips almost touching.

Elizabeth shook her head, smiling brokenly. "I wanted to hear it _every day_," she whispered, slowly, clearly, breathlessly. "Why do you think I agreed to go with you?"

He leaned down, kissed the tears off her face, and then drew back a few inches, closed his eyes. "To find the Fountain," he said calmly in a soft voice. "To live forever?..." He paused. "For him."

Elizabeth looked at him in astonishment. During those two years it had never crossed her mind that he could have doubted her feelings, that he could have wondered whose face she was seeing under her closed eyelids.

She cupped his face in her hands and he opened his eyes. "Jack Sparrow. You're positively the most..." she sighed in exasperation, and a hesitant, roguish smile began to surface on his face, but it was gone and replaced with a pout as soon as she finished her sentence, "stupid man I've ever met!"

* * *

"We've left port."

"I know." Armacanto did not look up from the maps on his table, but only smiled very faintly to himself. "Is there anything else?" He had expected silence, but she spoke.

"It seems to be." Verde closed the door with her foot and briskly walked toward his desk. "I think the _Black Pearl_ should be mine."

The straightforwardness of the statement caused him to actually shift his eyes to her. "Yours?"

"Yes. I heard your conversation-"

"Eavesdropping is a false friend, keep that in mind," he cut in, watching her warily but with thoughtful amusement that she found quite unnerving.

Verde gave him a small, sour smile, and he noticed that her manner was too carelessly nonchalant all of a sudden. He wanted to tell her that, but changed his mind. He had given her enough lessons in the past two years and perhaps it was high time to stop. She clearly learned whatever she had wanted to learn.

"I will," she paused, and stopped in front of his desk. "You promised me the _Pearl_. We were supposed to hunt her down together. I just can't see where is Jack Sparrow's place in that scheme. You have the map-" she glanced at the parchment on the desk and Armacanto slowly pressed his open palm to it, watching her eyes narrow.

"Tell me, Verde," Armacanto sat back in his chair, a thick line appearing on his forehead and she wondered for the hundredth time why he had never tried to find the Fountain of Youth before. "Do you want to live forever?"

She snorted. "You know I don't like spending too much time on dreaming. I'll start thinking about it when and if we find the Fountain," she said, squinting.

He regarded her for a moment in silence. "This is not a matter of choice. It's a flaw of character. You either have it or you don't. That was my question."

She smiled, and leaned over the table. "If you think of immortality so poorly why do you seek it?"

Armacanto laughed dryly and she bit her lip, keeping a half-hearted smile on her face. "Do I?" he raised his black and silver eyebrows, studying her face in the candlelight.

Verde leaned back with a sigh. "I'm tired of this. I don't know what you're planning, I don't know what you want, I don't know anything." She looked away.

"Do you remember your mother?"

The question was so unrelated to the conversation – to all the conversations they had ever had – that she looked back at him in both surprise and mild trepidation. "I do. Is that a clue of some kind?"

"I don't," he said grimly, ignoring the irony in her voice. "The memory is gone," he added very quietly, staring into the distance with unseeing eyes.

"We can't remember everything," she said with a hint of impatience in her voice, glancing at the window.

"Oh, but we _are _what we remember. If you forgot everything, you wouldn't know who you are."

"Nobody forgets everything," she said, looking back at him. "And even if... I don't think that would make such a terrible difference. If you forgot everything, you wouldn't _remember _who you are. Merely that."

"Merely? Wouldn't you get tired of discovering who you are every day, if you remembered nothing? And does it really matter that I _know_ I must have had a mother if I can't remember her face? Would you like to be an old man with no memories?" He paused, and looked at her for a moment before rephrasing his question. "Would you like to be an old woman with no memories... _forever_?"

"You're in a foul mood tonight, Olivier. You should rest."

For a moment she thought he had not heard her, because he just looked at her, but then he smiled wryly, and rose to his feet. "Rest. Is this a new name for it?" he asked, looking at her with glimmering eyes, struggling to recall that day - so vague now, so lost – that day when he had realized he loved her. Perhaps he still did. Perhaps he should know that he did, feel that he did even if he could not remember it. But there was a strange connection between memory and everything else that he was only beginning to grasp, hoping to grasp before it would fade away along with everything else.

Was it a revenge? His decision to show Jack Sparrow the real map. A sense of satisfaction at the idea that he would not have to be the only one? Was it the idea of sheer, cruel pleasure coming from the suffering of others that had made him take them on board? Would it please him to meet Jack Sparrow or that Pirate King of his one day when their memories would have been running away from them at such a rate that they could hardly remember each other's names? Would the destruction of love give him pleasure because when he had fallen in love for the very first time he was already losing his memories so fast that he knew that soon he would forget her as well, her green eyes, her name, her-

"A new name for what?" Verde wrinkled her forehead.

Armacanto snorted humorlessly. "Betrayal, darling. Mutiny. Did you really think I wouldn't guess?"

* * *

He pressed his lips to her ear, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling and crying, tears so hot she thought they might burn her skin.

He whispered the words into her ear again, hugging her close. "I thought you knew, Lizzie. I really thought you knew."

"I thought _you_ knew," Elizabeth said through her tears.

"Knew what?" asked Jack, lifting his eyebrows, and drawing back a little to see her face.

Elizabeth blinked and then laughed briefly, kissing his lips before pressing hers to his ear and saying the same words he had just said.

He buried his face into her hair and smiled.

Elizabeth pressed her cheek to his dreadlocks with a sigh. "Say it again."

"I already said it three times."

"Jack!" Elizabeth hit him playfully on the shoulder, and rested her forehead against his.

"You know you have to make up for two years of not saying it," she said with a small pout.

Jack smirked. "I'm very good at making up, luv."

"Oh, I know," said Elizabeth with an amused smile, outlining his mouth with small kisses.

He cupped her face with his hands and looked at her for a moment before kissing her on the lips, very lightly at first, and then so feverishly that the cabin began to spin... literally.

"Jack!" Elizabeth held on to him in order not to fall when the ship lurched violently, a hiss of cannon fire breaking the late night silence. "What was that?"

"Stay here, Lizzie," said Jack, trying to sit her down on the bed, but she snatched herself free.

"I'm going with you. And I would thank you for not giving orders to the Pirate King," she added with a hint of pretended haughtiness in her voice, before he had a chance to start persuading her.

Jack rolled his eyes. "You need to start treating your electors' advice with more reverence, luv," he said taking her by the hand, and pulling her toward the door.

* * *

"Jack!" Gibbs could not stop himself from shouting, even though he received a rather hard blow to his ribs for speaking up.

"Easy," Verde glared at the man who shrugged in response.

Jack and Elizabeth stopped at the sight of Gibbs being held by two crew members whom they had not seen before.

"Oh," said Jack, forcing a smile, while Elizabeth slowly placed her hand on the handle of her sword, glancing at the dark silhouette of the ship floating on the right side of Armacanto's vessel.

In the light of sparkling colors that suddenly lit up the sky she could see the crew on the other ship, and it was also then that she realized it was not the canon fire they had heard earlier, but merely fireworks.

Gibbs looked at the sky, and sighed at the realization of what the girl had meant when she had said they should have waited for the right constellation of _stars_.

Verde smiled briefly and walked up to Jack and Elizabeth.

"I'd say something about trees and apples, but I suspect you might detest this particular comparison, no matter how accurate it would've been," said Jack, squinting.

"That would've been indeed a not very well thought out thing to say," replied Verde, extending her hand. "And now, could I have your map?"

Jack raised his eyebrows.

"I already have his," added Verde, lifting the parchment for them to see.

Jack looked at the piece of paper with his eyes narrowed.

"Our map doesn't differ from this one, dearie. Why would you need two maps that look exactly the same?" asked Jack amusedly, although Elizabeth could feel his hand tighten around hers, something she had learnt meant he was not simply speaking, but weaving a trap or an escape with his words.

"They are the same, but it doesn't mean I don't need them both. I'm very sorry, Jack, but I'd rather reach the Fountain of Youth on my own, only with my crew, and without any star-crossed lovers wandering around," said Verde, glancing at Elizabeth. "I don't need any dreary ships attacking mine, if you get my meaning," she added in an exaggeratedly low voice, looking back at Jack who narrowed his eyes at her. "However, I don't intend to set you on fire or send you afloat either."

"How kind of you," cut in Elizabeth, and Jack lightly squeezed her hand.

"It is kind of me," Verde agreed, smirking slightly. "Especially that I'm also going to let you sail away on this very ship," she said glancing around. "I like mine much better," she said, looking over her shoulder on the ship swaying on the waves next to Armacanto's ship. "All I want is your map."

"There just has to be something more," said Jack with a smile that Elizabeth found suspiciously amused, a familiar glimpse of mischief flickering in his eyes.

Verde snorted. "If you had a moment I'd appreciate if you could finally deliver my father... some place from which he will not come back. I have no time for this... now," she smiled sweetishly.

"That's it?" asked Elizabeth suspiciously.

"Consider it your lucky day," said Verde, hitting the parchment in her hand against her open palm. "I've always liked fairy tales, and you make such a credible one."

"Here you go," said Jack cheerfully, pulling the map from under his coat, and handing it to Verde.

Elizabeth shifted her wide-open eyes to him, but kept herself from saying anything because of her hand clasped tightly in his, his fingers drumming against the back of her hand in a curiously happy way.

"Thank you," Verde took the map from him, unfurled both parchments, and after brief scrutiny rolled them back up. "Very good," she smiled. "Do you want to keep anybody?"

"Well, we might keep that... shaggy yet... shrewdly looking sailor over there," said Jack matter-of-factly, pointing to Gibbs who arched an eyebrow. "And perhaps your captain-"

"This is something you'd have to negotiate with sharks," Verde interrupted him with a wry smile, and Jack's smile faltered a bit at the bitter memory of his own, a strange sense of compassion washing over him as he briefly considered the insignificance of the difference between death and being marooned, one being only the variation of another.

* * *

"Jack-"

"Shhh."

"Jack!"

"Shhh!"

Elizabeth groaned, crossing her arms over her chest.

Gibbs ran his hand across his forehead, watching Jack rummage through Armacanto's desk.

"I do think there are more important matters to attend now than drawers inspection. We've been left on this ship, and I highly doubt we can take it _anywhere _by ourselves. I don't know why you didn't want to keep any other crew members. Just three more and we could at least-" Elizabeth stopped to catch her breath, but before she continued, Jack pulled something out of Armacanto's desk's drawer, grinning mischievously.

"What was the one thing everybody knew about old Olivier, Mister Gibbs?" asked Jack, narrowing his eyes at them.

Gibbs' brows furrowed in consideration. "That he was cruel? Merciless? Greedy?" Gibbs continued guessing, but Jack kept shaking his head in denial.

"That he didn't trust women," Jack announced at last, squinting.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "He must not have _not _trusted them enough," she said sceptically.

Jack smiled. "Enough is a matter of perspective, luv. And in this case, enough is more than enough as far as we are concerned," he said, spreading the parchment on the desk, and Elizabeth was about to retort, but her breath caught at the sight.

Gibbs blinked, and slowly walked toward the desk. "What is that?"

"The map," said Jack with a complacent smile. "_The_ map leading to the Fountain of Youth."

* * *

The ship had been taken back to port, and the three of them decided to stay on board for the night, and start looking for crew members on the next day.

The night was stormy, and Elizabeth watched the waves leap against the hull with growing insistence, the moon casting thin, shimmering lines over the black water surface. So many times she had looked at the moon, but it was only now that it occurred to her for the first time that perhaps it was the moon that was looking at her, unchanged medallion of light, a witness to her dreams and her fears, moments of hope and of dread, and she wondered what did the moon think about her?... about both: a lake of broken promises and an ocean of love in which she was drowning every day.

"There were nights when I thought you were a ghost..." Jack's hand slid into her hair, and he sifted the strands through his fingers, smiling at the way in which moonlight fell over them, glimmering shadow of silver skimming over her locks, and he remembered all at once how cold and wet they had felt against the backs of his fingers when he had hold the shackles around her neck; how warm in the firelight; how dry in the sunlight...

She smiled faintly, still looking at the sea. "When?" She had wanted to ask a different question, but somehow the simplicity of his gesture freed her from an inner urge to banter.

"During that year before we met again. Every time when there was too much rum," he added with a smirk.

"Or too little," amended Elizabeth turning to him very swiftly.

His hand lingered in the air for a moment before it glided down her cheek and rested on her shoulder. "Or too little," he agreed, and adjusted his hat on her head.

"I'm not giving it back," said Elizabeth, squinting.

Jack narrowed his eyes at her in return, and then shrugged his coat of his shoulders and draped it around her.

"Are you going to give me all your clothes?" asked Elizabeth smilingly, sliding her hands over his shoulders.

"There is very little left of me, Lizzie, that does not belong to you," he said in a low, serious voice, and Elizabeth bit her lip, and exhaled slowly.

"Jack..."

He pulled her into an embrace and kissed her.

"I feel the same," she whispered, when they pulled apart, and Jack looked at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Do you feel trapped... with me?" he asked after a pause, and Elizabeth widened her eyes at him.

"Of course not!" she exclaimed incredulously, cupping his face in her hands. "Can't we be free _and_ together? Do _you_ feel trapped because-"

Jack smiled, and leaned over her shoulder. " Because..." he lowered his voice and whispered the rest of the sentence into her ear.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and laughed under her breath. "Yes. Because of that."

"No." He drew back, and looked at her intently. "No, I don't."

"Forgive me, Jack. Would you forgive me for everything?"

"Lizzie, Lizzie. Could I have given my hat, my ring _and _my coat to somebody against whom I hold a grudge?"

"I won your hat!" protested Elizabeth, but then she trailed off and narrowed her eyes at him. "You've lost it on purpose, didn't you?"

"What?" asked Jack in a high-pitched tone of voice, shaking his head. "No, no. Lizzie-"

"And you lost your ring on purpose too!" Elizabeth slid out of his embrace and stormed off toward the stairs leading below, trying very hard not to laugh, while Jack tried to catch up with her.

Gibbs stopped in his tracks on his way toward them, and after a moment of hesitation decided to try talking to Jack later. There was one thing that worried him slightly, and he wanted to mention it... Because it had just occurred to him that even though he had witnessed Olivier Armacanto's body being thrown into the water by Verde's men, the _Flying Dutchman_ had never surfaced to pick up the man's soul...

* * *

"Can you hear them?"

"Whom, luv?"

Elizabeth snorted, snuggling her cheek against his skin. "Not whom. What."

"What?"

"Them. The waves. Here, in the cabin. Can you hear them and see them?"

Jack wrinkled his forehead, glanced around as much as it was possible without moving his head, and then carefully turned his head to look at Elizabeth. "I'm afraid my eyesight is not as good as it used to be," he said tightening his embrace around her.

"Jack!" Elizabeth lightly kicked his leg with her foot. "Not now. Before. When... I mean... when we... when..." she shrugged in annoyance, and pursed her lips. "Never mind."

"No, by all means do continue, luv. That's extremely interesting- Oi!" he winced, when Elizabeth's foot collided with his shin again.

"If you will be like that, I'll name our baby _Teague_," she said, biting her lip to keep from chuckling.

"Oi!" Jack repeated with deliberate dread in his voice, but then wrinkled his forehead and looked at her in pretended confusion. "How could you name a girl Teague?"

"How do you know it's going to be a girl?" Elizabeth looked up at him, laughing.

Jack placed his hand under his head and for a moment looked at the ceiling, before deciding to speak. "I had a dream."

Elizabeth propped herself on her elbow and narrowed her eyes at him. "You had a dream."

"Aye."

"About what?" she prompted when he fell silent once again.

Jack cleared his throat, and then turned onto his side to look at her. "About you and our three daughters," he said in a low voice, and grinned impishly at the startled look on her face.

She was about to ask him about the dream's details, but then she remembered that they had not slept since she had told him the news. "When did you have that dream?" she asked looking at him intently, and he twitched his nose, and began sifting her hair through his fingers.

"When I was trying to find a way to make sure..." he trailed off, not sure if it was a good idea to admit that much, after all.

Elizabeth pressed a quick kiss to his shoulder and looked at him expectantly.

"To make sure you wouldn't leave," he finished unsmilingly.

"Leave?" Elizabeth took one of his trinkets in her hand, and ran her thumb over it. "What do you mean?" she asked with a frown.

A small smile that she remembered from that one and only time when he had refused her a kiss appeared on his face. "I've never wanted ten years with you, Lizzie. I've wanted _all _your years."

"Once we find the Fountain of Youth you're going to regret having that wish," she said solemnly and he smiled.

"I'll give it a second thought," said Jack, squinting, and catching Elizabeth's hand before it landed on his cheek. "And now go to sleep, luv. If we're going to go with your plan, and find the _Pearl_ first, we have to set sail as soon as possible, and to do that we have to start looking for a crew early tomorrow-"

"Alright, alright," Elizabeth silenced him with a wave of her hand, and snuggled her face into his chest. "Good night."

"Oi."

She opened one eye. "What is it now?"

"You forgot to kiss me."

"That's what you said an hour ago."

"It's not my fault that you keep forgetting, luv," said Jack with a lop-sided smile and kissed her.

* * *

"Jack, are you quite certain that-"

"Mister Gibbs. Are questioning your Captain's... ideas?"

"No." Gibbs shook his head with a sigh.

"Good." Jack regarded the red-painted name that glimmered in the early morning sun with a smile. "I assure you that _Bloody Lizzie _is the best name for this ship."

_The End_


End file.
